Dead Man Walking (Closed for WeaverofWorlds)

[PlayfulLilDarlin]

[Red Dead Redemption 2 setting, before the events of 1]

She just needed two or three more scores to set her up proper for leaving the country. Sadie Adler had grown into a skilled and respected bounty hunter since her life went up in flames.

Sadie had been numb at first when she’d been brought to their camp, having just lost everything she’d ever had, ever loved. She’d watched through the cracks in the floorboards when the O’Driscoll men had cut Jake down. She still hated the cold even now from the memory of three days in the near-frozen earth of a root cellar scared for her life. Too scared to sleep, too scared to make noise. A nightdress all she had to keep warm, she hated feeling the cold seep through her clothing even now.

She’d resolved to build a good amount of money and leave the quickly civilizing United States for the wilds that still remained in South America. She just needed the money but be damned if she’d say that out loud, it’d be too much like Dutch and she still snarled at the thought of that bastard. He’d lead to the deaths of too many good people.

Still, it was a fact of life, and sometimes death, that money was the thing that made all else possible. It wasn’t faith or God or some prophetic words, money was the one thing that could sway anything up to and sometimes including death. That’s where she’d become resolved to take the largest bounties, she could reasonably handle for payouts that would expedite her leaving.

There wasn’t a whole hell of a lot she’d miss about this place, the friends she had left were dwindling and her presence wasn’t helping much. Leaving John and Abigail to raise their son without her there as a constant reminder of a life John wasn’t supposed to be part of anymore. And they were all bound to discuss friends that were no longer with them, a pain for her that was more than she’d ever spoken aloud.

Wasn’t her place to step into the grief of a family for their own and she’d never really had anything with Arthur that was spoken between them. There’d been feelings, trust, caring, but she’d been too fresh from hurting and laying her ghosts to rest to let herself reach out to another man. Jake was years dead now and so was Arthur, the two best men she’d ever known and the two reasons she’d cried in the past six years.

No use dwelling on the reasons she had to leave when there was work to be done though, even if Hera was doing the majority of it. The solid, strong mare kept plodding through the snow up around Glacier where the most recent lead had sent Sadie. Word was a man fitting the tall, wide description of her latest, maybe last, bounty had been seen around the snowy northern remote area, just into the Redemption Mountains.

“Damn.” She muttered and clapped her hands to her arms to rub the blood into them. She had a good thick coat, warm boots, thick trousers, and underthings but if it was the cold or the memory of it brought on by the wind, she was still feeling chilled to the bone. Her breath a shadow of the twin plumes from Hera’s nostrils as the horse grunted and climbed the incline toward where Sadie thought she’d spied light the night before.

It wasn’t far now, another half mile, maybe a mile and she’d be there. Revolver and repeater ready for when she was. But another ten minutes on and she had to rein Hera to a stop. “Whoa, whoa. You see that?”

Talking to her horse was a habit she must have picked up from Morgan and Marston over the years. She spoke softly and eased down out of her saddle into the knee-deep snow. She walked a short way ahead and sure enough, there was a path, a trail of solitary footprints in the snow. Fresh enough that they were barely dusted by the fresh flakes in the air.

She turned toward the tree line and scanned it. It’d be dark soon; dusk and dawn were the best times to hunt deer. So, he was probably hunting. The stride was right for a big man too. “Looks like we’re takin’ a detour girl.”

Sadie Lumbered back to the horse and hauled herself up into the saddle, a single hand laid reins to turn her to the trees and she set her at a canter. She’d be closing in on her target soon enough that she made sure the repeater and revolver were ready to draw.

 

[WeaverofWorlds]

It had been, admittedly, a somewhat lean year.

That's not to say, of course, that a lean year was a bad one. Just a tightening of the belt, dipping a bit more into the stores that would normally have lasted the whole winter straight through to spring. It would, for the most part. But even the smallest supplement to a meagre meal was welcome, and checking traps wasn't too taxing a thing on his body. The cold though, was much more so, something he'd been told to watch for. Something he had watched for the past few years, but he'd be damned if he didn't get something fresher than salted jerky. Trudging through the snow was a difficult thing, but oftentimes difficult things were necessary.

Would that his body didn't still bear the burdens it did, but there was no use asking for the impossible. That he'd survive his brush with death, close enough to shake hands with the specter that had clung to him for so long. But a bit of help, a bit of luck, and he'd somehow pulled through. His body wasn't what it used to be, he certainly didn't sprint anywhere, and his breathing somehow felt heavier than he remembered it being before, but that he'd life at all was a miracle. One he'd chosen to spend in quiet isolation, away from the world, where he could cling to some semblance of the life he'd known in some small way, pay the dues of the life he led without worry of the temptations of more.

His thoughts drifted elsewhere on days like this, where snow coated the world and drowned it in silence. To those he'd once called family, where their lives might have taken them, if any of them thought of the ones they'd once lived among, missed what had once been, like he sometimes did. Had Marston gotten away, found Abigail and Jack, freed himself from what he'd once been? Did Dutch ever come to his senses, realize the mistakes he'd made? So many others as well, that he silently hoped found better lives for themselves. And Sadie... Sadie deserved some peace after everything. Gone through hell itself, and she'd come out harder for it, angry, vengeful. He remembered it, the day he'd helped her end her vendetta... he still couldn't quite tell if it had satisfied her the way she'd wanted it to. Maybe if he'd said something...

But no, those were pointless thoughts, best left to the safety of home.

He continued onward, heading for another of the various snares he'd left about. He wasn't hoping for much, but a good rabbit wouldn't be unwelcome. Been a few weeks since he'd had a bit of fresh meat. He could feel the tightness in his chest, his body laboring to pull in breath after breath. He was pushing it today, even bundled in furs as he was, but no one had ever accused him of being a smart man.

One more trap, then he'd turn for home. Would spit in the face of those who'd helped him survive if he died to a little chill. The hunting rifle slung over his shoulder was able enough against most threats, but the chill would be the more likely death of him. Just one more trap, hopefully a rabbit, and then some stew to warm the belly and chase away the cold.

 

[PlayfulLilDarlin]

Sadie had a few choice words to utter about this old bastard making her trudge through the snow to track him down. Why was it some men liked to go to the middle of nowhere in the damned cold rather than some where nice and sunny? She might just charge extra on this one on account of the conditions. It wasn't like she was a stranger to the weather, but it was a harsh reminder of things lost that she'd rather not have poked at. Old pains like old bones acted up under the right conditions.

Hera balked at a shear that swept down from the peak above and brought with it a biting chill. Her coat was tight around she pulled her scarf high till it all but covered her face. Yeah, she was gonna ask another fifty for this obstinate bastard making her trek through this damned storm. Lucky there wasn't too much further to the tree line, or the footprints would be erased in before she could find him.

Sure, she could have just waited at the cabin she figured he was holed up in but this way she wasn't going to be taken by surprise with someone coming in out of the cold already armed and ready. He'd see her prints as easy as she'd seen his, doubly so in the wind free lee side of the cabin. So, she'd wrangle him up out here, then they could both wait out the storm a bit in the cabin and then, if she hadn't had cause to exercise the dead in her contract, she'd bring him in alive.

Sadie stopped the horse with a light pull on the reins and slid off and hitched her to a tree just inside the snow break of the forest. She drew her rifle and held it lose in a cradle in her arms till she picked up the trail again and started after it. She was never trained by Indians like Charles had been, but her steps were light and sure. Careful footing took her deeper into the woods where the brightness of the snow no longer dazzled her eyes.

She followed the tracks until she saw a shadowy shape ahead that didn't look like just another tree, when it moved, she got a slow grin. She put the butt of the rifle to her shoulder and walked forward toward the man. "Horace Abner Crabtree, there's a bounty on your head and a rifle aimed at your heart. Make this easy for both of us an come along quiet."

 

[WeaverofWorlds]

It was as he was checking the last snare that the voice cut through the silence of the forest. A silent curse, but then who expected anyone to come into the mountains this time of year? Old instincts pushed him to seek a way to turn the situation around, bring a gun to bear to somehow improve his situation, but the thought was tossed aside quickly. His hunting rifle wasn't much for drawing quickly, and he'd long since stopped carrying his revolver at his hip, storing within a drawer back at his cabin instead. No, he'd have to simply accept that he'd somehow found himself at the tender mercies of a bounty hunter, one that would no doubt find his head just as profitable as whoever this Horace bloke was. Maybe it was just his fate to someday find himself on the wrong end of the hangman's noose.

Might be a bit strange for it to be a lady out doing the hunting, but he'd seen stranger, and money was money regardless of who claimed it. Her voice sounded familiar, though it had been years since he'd truly had the chance to speak at length with anyone who wasn't a trader at the small town a few days trek down the mountain. Could be just wishful thinking on his part, someone he might recognize come to stumble upon him.

He put his hands up slowly, well away from any chance of unslinging the rifle from his shoulder, though he neglected to stand. Would take a bit of effort to do that, what with the cold starting to seep in. Instead, he raised his voice as loud as he could manage without straining his worn lungs, hoping whoever she was, the bounty hunter would be content with that.

"Now Miss, there ain't no call for all that." His voice sounded rough from disuse, the words forming in his mouth odd to his ears. But he pressed on regardless, the sound quickly growing in confidence and familiarity. It was almost a relief to learn that he could still talk at all, as it nearly always was come his infrequent trips to town. "Can't say I know a Horace of any kind, and if it's all the same to you, I'd like to get out of the cold and talk this over like proper folk. Got myself a cabin not far, should do nicely for the both of us."

Ears strained for anything that might hint at an outcome not likely to result in violence. He'd half a mind to just ask for a quick death, if that's what it came to. But all he could hear was the idle sounds of a horse and the ragged breathing of his own chest.

 

[PlayfulLilDarlin]

The voice that came back to her was thin and reedy, the wind grabbed at it with icy fingers and shredded it even more before it could reach her. Heh, he was polite, most bounties didn't offer that sort of nicety these days. At least that would earn him going easier, provided he didn't try something as she approached.

"I'm sure ya don't. An ya don't know nuthin' 'bout the funds that went missin' from the First Union Bank neither." Pull the other one Horace, she'd been doing this too long to be hoodwinked by the likes of you. Sadie advanced with her rifle held level, boots crushing in the snow as she progressed. God damn he was a big fella, not the biggest she'd seen but big enough. She'd put down bigger though, so they were just going to have to see how it played out.

"Very cordial of ya to invite a lady in. So why don't you drop the rifle to the side, slow. An I'll carry it for ya so you ain't so weighed down. You can take your catch there an we'll walk back and get warm and discuss this all nice'n civil." And if ya move wrong, I'm gonna put a bullet in your skull. That went without saying of course, it was implicit. She valued the bounty money for a live catch, but she valued her own life more.


She stopped twenty feet back, plenty close enough that she could not miss with the repeater, she set her feet strong and grounded herself in case he made move to run or attack. She'd had both happen before and was ready for either. She waited for him to comply, and she hope to hell he had a horse of his own. Lugging a man that size down a mountain and into town was a job and a half. She debated using that to charge additional fees for handling.

Hell, they'd told her he was tall but not that he was broad in the shoulder too. "Come on now, best to not keep me waitin'" She urged him to move with her tone and a not-so-subtle snort that followed. "And its missus, not miss. Mrs. Adler to you."

 

[WeaverofWorlds]

The crunching of snow was a useful measure of how close she'd come, though she was smart enough to not get too close. At her direction he shifted the rifle from his shoulder, making a show of tossing it to the side. Some part of him rebelled against the though, not only because it left him defenseless, but for the poor treatment. That would come to bite him later, he was sure, maintenance was important, especially for something that was arguably his most prized possession out here in the mountains. But there was nothing for it, in the end.

"No need for threats, Miss. I understand the situation just fine."

He'd certainly been at the wrong end of a gun enough times, at any rate. Of course, it didn't take any particularly intelligent individual to understand who was in charge at the moment. As he set to work collecting the rabbit caught in the snare the woman behind him kept talking, correcting not only her title but also giving her name, such that it cause his hands to still and a sharp intake of his breath. Couldn't be... but she did sound familiar... Just his luck it would be her to stumble across his little bit of the world. He almost dreaded what he was about to do, but it needed doing, and he wasn't one to shy away from a tough decision... well, not often at any rate.

"Sa-" But no, that felt... too familiar. Despite whatever friendship they'd had, if she was anything like he remembered she'd take the news of his survival like she took everything else. Like a personal insult aimed squarely at her. Best not to kick that nest of hornet's when it had already fallen out of the tree. "Mrs. Adler. It's been... awhile, ain't it?"

He turned then, or as much as he could without standing up. Anything to avoid gettin shot, and she was already going to be spitting fire at him. But he got his first good look at her, looking as stubborn and world weary as she ever did. He supposed, if he were to die at her hands, at least the money would be going to someone who certainly deserved it.

"Can't rightly say it's good to see ya, what with the gun yer pointin my way."

 

[PlayfulLilDarlin]

He was polite for a bounty, she thought again, and there was something in his tone and the choice of his words. Something that reminded her of times past. Maybe that was just the way men started to speak when they ran in certain circles. Didn’t matter to her, she was one step closer to collecting and she’d already taken a couple steps toward the discarded rifle when he started to speak again and that frozen her in her tracks.

What the hell?

Her stomach sunk and had Sadie not been a formidable bitch on the outside she might have betrayed a look of shock. Morgan, alive? After all this time, was it even possible? With all the quickness necessary to assessing threats in her business she scanned him over. He was thinner, looked more drawn and damned if he didn’t look more tired than she felt. But it was him, wind whipped cheeks and nose were red, lips chapped, and he was an unkempt, unshaven mess but those eyes were impossible to forget.

She was lost in the Caribbean blue green of his eyes for a few seconds before his words slowly filtered into her shock addled brain. Sadie lowered and then shouldered the repeater by its strap. Without a word she walked forward and offered a hand to pull him to his feet, he was still a big man in comparison, but she was a damn strong woman and had a determined streak a mile wide.

Once he was back on his feet, she looked up at him, assuring herself that it was really Arthur Morgan alive and in the flesh and not some vision brought on by cold. No, he was real enough alright. And that was why she pulled back and punched him square in the jaw. “All this time I thought you was dead, Morgan”

 

[WeaverofWorlds]

He took the minutes that she spent trudging forward to get a solid look at her. Sadie had gotten older... hell, they'd both gotten older. It had certainly been long enough. She'd seemed to take to it far better than he had, though. She looked healthy, if a bit chilly thanks to the mountain air. Had found her calling as well. Bounty hunting. Wouldn't have thought of it himself, if he was being honest, but looking back it made a lot of sense. She'd always held a grudge well, particularly against the lawless bandits and robbers. What better way to hurt the scum of the earth than bringing em back for punishment, or seeing the deed done yourself. He supposed it made some sense then that she'd be the one to stumble across his little hideaway. Then she'd helped him up, her eyes boring holes into his as she seemed to examine every inch of him. Assuring herself he was actually who he was more than likely.

"Now, Mrs. Adl-"

Her fist cocking back was the first sign, and if he'd been younger, stronger, and perhaps more inclined to getting out of the way, he might have managed to avoid it. But as it was, none of those things were true, and the solid blow sent him right back onto his ass. The spark of pain was, at once, a reminder of his fragility and that he probably deserved far worse from her. She'd been one of the good ones, one of the the ones that... probably deserved better than everything she'd got out of the mess. Still, he'd thought it best he stay well away from any of those who'd managed to make it out, and he wasn't going to change his mind on that.

"Was kinda the point, Mrs. Adler... See you still gotta helluva an arm."

It was certainly going to be sore for a day or so, if not longer. A deserved punishment by his reckoning. His hand rubbed at his chin, trying to work some of the pain away. It wouldn't help much, but that was that, and it's not like he'd anything else to do. He struggled back to his feet, taking a moment afterwards to catch his breath before straightening out again. He set to the task of collecting up his things, rifle slung onto his shoulder, rabbit collected from the trap. He took the extra time to set it once more as well, wouldn't be likely he'd get out to check it anytime soon, but better it set than not.

"Sure you've got plenty of question, but if it's all the same to you, I'd wager it be easier to talk somewhere warm."

He was already moving by the time he'd finished speaking, beginning his slow trek back towards what counted for home nowadays. Wouldn't be much he would offer her, but was better than standing around in the snow.

 

[PlayfulLilDarlin]

She'd aged as well as a woman who didn't particularly spoil and pamper herself could possibly expect. A few crow's feet around her eyes a deepening of the smile lines. But the sharpness of her eyes was still there in the honey brown of her gaze. Her features held the strength and edge she'd always had. Though the slack of her jaw undercut the meanness her stance and attitude generally held.

"Come on then, let's get you inside." She fell into step beside him without further comment, whistling low for her horse when they broke through the tree line. Th big mare trotted over, plumes of breath flowing from her nostrils. When she joined them Sadie holstered her rifle and swung up into the saddle. She reached a hand down, without words the offer was clear. No reason to hike all the way back if they could ride.

Arthur didn't look good well, he still looked good to her, but he didn't look well. Though for a dead man he looked downright spry. Faster they got him back to the warmth of the cabin the better she'd feel. How she could go from being ok with shooting the man she thought he was and wanted to protect the man he turned out to be was something she wasn't even ready to delve into. He was right in thinking that she wouldn't have given up on helping him of she'd thought he was alive. Maybe she'd have died in the process, damned near had with John when they went to take down Micah... oh lord she wondered if she still had any bourbon to toast that adventure with Arthur.

The weather was too cold to dilly dally outside so she hurried their pace to the cabin. Snow well and truly falling again and the wind picking up with what might well turn into a blizzard before too long. The warm coat was a blessing and she burrowed down deeper into it as the mare's steps clomped through the snow. The howling wind gave them a reason not to have to make conversation until they arrived close enough to dismount.

Sadie saw to the safe sheltering of Hera and removed the tackle and covered her in a blanket. She murmured to her and laid out food and water before turning to Arthur. Caring for animals was something they'd had in common, and she wasn't worried he'd make snide comments like some of the gang had at taking extra time to ensure her mount was safe and tended to.


With a nod she gestured to the door, him opening it would be easier than her with her arms loaded at the moment. All she wanted to do was get inside and warm and then she could ponder just what the hell else all this could mean. Right now she was too damned cold for philosophy.

 

[WeaverofWorlds]

The walk back was a quiet one. Not much of a surprise, that, given the state of things. She'd offered a ride but... well, that seemed too much like admitting he was weak. He wasn't usually one to turn down an offer of an easy time of it, but in front of Sadie, he couldn't quite bring himself to admit openly how much he'd lost over the years. Survival had come at a cost, and certainly not a cheap one. He'd the thought that if she could hear his thoughts she'd be calling him an idiot and stubborn for no reason. She'd have the right of it to, but still he'd prefer to at least seem something like his old self. Even if there was no hiding the fact that he wasn't what he used to be any longer.

Still, they made decent time, arriving at the cabin itself just as the wind was picking up proper and a blizzard was threatening to come down full force. A lucky break they'd made it beforehand, though he was loathe to admit that they'd have made it back sooner if he'd taken the offer of a ride. He watched as she set about the task of bedding down her horse, what he had for a shelter little more than a lean to, but it was shelter all the same and would serve well enough. Honesty demanded he admit, at least to himself, that it would have been better if he'd gone inside, but he couldn't quite bring himself to leave Sadie out in the cold by herself, even if she'd have been following him inside soon after. Then it was soon enough time to enter what amounted to his home.

It was a sparsely furnished cabin, little more than the bare necessities of life. A fireplace, with a dimly glowing fire quickly brought back to life with the addition of firewood a bit of tending, a few bits of pots and pans more suited to a campsite than a home. A chest for storing what few odds and ends he cared to keep, next to a bed fit enough for one. A single chair sat near the fire, a small table beside that. If anything could be described of his home, it was almost needlessly lacking in things meant for comfort. It suited him just fine though, a willing penance for the crimes of his life. He didn't need or want much more than he had, hard living was the best he could want for anyhow.

"Make yourself at home, Mrs. Adler. Such as it is. Ain't got much, but your welcome to what I do have."

 

[PlayfulLilDarlin]

Sadie dropped the tack and saddle near the door, propped her rifle there as well. She stomped snow off her boots and brushed it off the mantle of her duster before she stepped in proper and shut the door tight behind her. The duster stayed on for the few moments it took to stoke the fire but she shed her hat with her other things and took a turn to look over his domain.

It was him, every inch of it. Not a cent worried on comfort passed what was needed to survive, everything in the singular for him. A clear sign he lived alone for some time. And then there was his worn blanket in need of patching that she might have offered to do something about if she was half talented at domestic tasks. About all she could do was cook well, Jake had ben... well he'd been a leather tooler, a builder, he'd had skilled hands and a fanciful mind. He could have sewn things and made 'em pretty to boot, when he worked leather the embossing was a beauty to look at. But that was barely enough to get them by when they'd lived so far out. And then he died and her whole life was burned to the ground and she had no use for fancy leather work nor sewing.

About all she could stitch were injuries and that she'd done so often for herself that she'd learned how to pull the thread quick and make it fast and steady so as to minimize the pain. She was no craftsman or artist, hell she couldn't do much that made her stand out aside from being more sour than a lemon and more angry then a kicked wasp nest. But she'd survived, she'd made her way and found a new calling and it contributed a little to the betterment of the world she thought.

"Arthur," The name came with what seemed like the tone of one trying to be patient but having covered this before. "It's Sadie, pretty sure you 'dying' sort of takes the formality out of things."

She finally slid off the duster, the shirt was new but the bright yellow of it was not. She carried her own sunshine with her that way and it was distinctive enough to be remembered, which could ease trouble more often than not. People who remembered her tended to not try to rile her. Leastwise those that were still alive. She moved to crouch by the fire and extended her hands palm out to warm them.

"You been here the whole time? John would skin you if he knew."

 

[WeaverofWorlds]

"Sadie then."

He chuckled at that as he set about the task of storing the rabbit. He'd have to dress it soon, collect every bit of useful material from it, from fur to meat to bone, but that could be put off for awhile at least. It was a simple task, hanging up the rabbit in a little corner he'd frequently used for storing animals he'd not quite gotten to dealing with yet. A more common occurrence than he'd like, if he were being truthful, but he'd rather not bring that up. Sadie was enough on edge as it was, what with him being alive at all. No reason to make mention of how much weaker he'd gotten. Instead he made his way to the single chair and just about collapsed into it, his aching muscles relaxing at finally being off his feet after pushing himself perhaps a bit too far. A few minutes silence, as he let warmth creep back into his frame and her question hung in the air. John WOULD skin him if he knew, and he'd likely deserve it.

"Been here for a few years now. Took awhile, comin back from the dead." Not quite dead actually, but she'd know what he meant. Near the end, he might as well have been shaking hands with death itself. "Got lucky, a second chance. Decided it would be best I stayed dead. Only thing me being alive would do is cause more misery. Sides, you've done well for yerself from the looks of it, imagine John has as well. Bounty hunting hm? Can't say I'm surprised. How have you been? And everyone else? Fair few made it out as I recall, leaving before things got bad near the end there."

 

[PlayfulLilDarlin]

"Marston helps sometimes, he's got to with that loan." She shrugged and knelt closer to the fire warming her hands. Then she pivoted to look at him, having to blink hard. "But you don't know about all that."

Sadie pushed off to standing and rummaged through her saddle bag to bring out a nearly full bottle of bourbon. She pulled the cork and took a pull before she handed it to Arthur. She sat cross legged facing him. "After... well after all that went down, I did what you asked of me. I made sure John and his family got out. I wanted ta go back for ya but, well hell I know you Arthur. You'd never put your life before anyone else's and it'd be breakin' my word to ya." She looked down and plucked at some stray treads from her chaps.

"Anyways, I helped 'em get out, get a wagon and saw 'em off. They were headed out to find whatever it was that they wanted as a family. I went my own way, those of us that was left kind drifted away from each other." She shrugged, it had seemed so natural at the time but now she wondered if they had all been thinking the same thing, that they were less likely to have the past catch up with them if they weren't together.

"I took up all kinds of work, after running with y'all I learned I was good at some things. So I did some escort rides for travelers movin' west, some gold claim protection, and then I kinda fell into bounties. The work was good, above board and the money was real good. Did it for a couple years till I heard some rumors that sounded too familiar and looked up the fella I heard about. It was John alright, going by Jim Milton then, him and Abigail and Jack was workin' on a farm." Oh but there was some detail to that, she debated telling him but it was John's story to tell.

"He needed the money ya see cause he got the fool notion to buy this terrible patch of rocks an scrub as a farm for Abigail. Them two are really making a go of it. An Jack, he's damn near up to my shoulders now. They found Uncle and Charles somewhere along the way too. Almost felt," She smiled a little and shook her head. "Almost like old times some nights."

A lot had happened in his absence, so much that she could only scratch the surface and had to leave out plenty of details.

 

[WeaverofWorlds]

"A loan? Don't sound like Marston..."

His quiet mumblings were all he said as Sadie continued speaking, drowning out any further replies, even as he took the offered bottle. He wasn't exactly keen to interrupt anyway, the sound of her voice a comfort he could admit to himself had gone sorely missed. Living alone left one starved for conversation, interaction, anything, and it was the long nights of winter that brought up that pang of need more sharply. Not much to do to distract oneself when you were closed inside with nowhere to go. He felt his eyes close as he let the timbre of her voice, filling the empty space of the cabin, lull him into some semblance of peace that he hadn't felt in a long while. He felt muscles ease, his chest loosen as lungs recovered from the trek and the cold air. It was... good... that the others had escaped. Moved on. Found something else to live for, hadn't wallowed in the past. Even Marston, the one he'd have thought would resist change the most.

But even Marston had to, didn't he? Best to let him, let them all, rather the drag up old wounds.

"It's good to hear they're all doing ok."

He roused himself from his gentle stupor, strength returning to tired limbs now that he'd a few moments to pull himself together. A pull from the bottle, the sharp taste of the bourbon hitting his tongue, the pleasant burning as it went down. He couldn't much afford a stiff drink nowadays, too much else to see to, too little money to see to spend on comforts of old. As much as he didn't want to rip open old wounds, the fact they'd even met was a sharp enough tug already. If Sadie was anything like she used to be, she was going to stubbornly drag the answers she wanted out of him anyway.

"I imagine you've got questions. Let's hear em, though I figure you ain't gonna like the answers."